My Immortal
by M. D. Jensen
Summary: After the events of book 5, Harry finds a certain mirror... will he be able to finally express feelings he didn't even know he had? Fluffy, harmless SBHP slash... not my thing done on request. R&R!


Disclaimer: I don't own any of this. Characters/props/places are JK Rowling's and the title is a song by Evanescence. I'm guessing you all know it.

Hey, guys, this'll be quick coz I lost my original AN's in a disc failure… so basically, this is fluffy Harry/Sirius slash. It's not my thing, but I got a request from Blacks Honey and figured I'd give it a shot. And she liked it, so I hoped you do too. :waves at Blacks Honey: Thanks for the challenge/request, dude! I had fun writing it! A note on requests: I will not do longfics but if you ask really nicely I may write you a standalone like this one. On with the fic!

_My Immortal _

Harry Potter, three days away from his sixteenth birthday, wandered the halls of number 12 Grimmauld street, despondent and depressed, and more lonely than he had felt in his entire life. The headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix were vaguely reminiscent of Hogwarts; some rooms appeared only at certain times, some rooms vanished, and one staircase led to the kitchen every Thursday, as opposed to the upstairs balcony, as it did every other day of the week. The first time he had noticed this, Harry had seriously wondered how powerful the Black family truly had to be to own a house like this. But now, even thinking the word 'Black' set tiny fires off behind his eyes- fires that blazed and burned and made his eyes water.

I'd give anything to see his eyes again.

The fight seemed hopeless. Perhaps the war could be won, but perhaps it was already a lost cause. And part of him was only fighting this war in the first place for a few people- Hermione, Ron and the Weasleys… and Sirius. And now Sirius was dead. And the fight not only seemed hopeless, but useless. It wouldn't bring Sirius back. Nothing would now.

Harry scrubbed at his eyes, trying to block out these- and all other- thoughts. It worked a little; his eyes cleared enough for him to at least see where he was. He had managed to wonder, completely randomly, into one of the rooms that seemed to only be there once in a while. That was fine with him. It meant no one would find him, at least for now. And besides, he was exhausted. He hadn't slept in days.

He sunk down heavily onto the sole piece of furniture in the room- a large, squishy sofa which was much less comfortable than he thought at first glance. Of course, everything nowadays felt like stone. Everything tasted like dirt. It was practically like he was dead himself.

Of course, then he'd be with Sirius.

Glaring about the room, Harry's gaze fell on something he never expected to see again: the mirror- the Mirror of Erised.

Harry bit his lip. The last thing, the last thing, he thought. This is the last thing I wanted to see right now.

It's not like he needed to look into it to know what it was. His question had been answered, the one he posed so long ago- it felt like lifetimes. People's deepest desires could certainly change. He had wanted a family; he had gotten a godfather. Now, he wanted him back.

I just want to see his eyes again.

Harry's thoughts from just a few minutes previous came drifting back to him. He had no pictures of Sirius, the Sirius he had known at least. The pictures from his parents' wedding were of someone entirely different. And he was beginning to forget exactly what his Sirius had looked like. That scared him.

His mind set, Harry climbed up from the sofa and walked the length of the room over to the mirror. He looked into the mirror- and saw nothing. He realized his eyes were closed. He opened them…

And there he was. Sirius was there, alive… and he was happy. His face was lit up in a smile, his arms around Harry's shoulder. Standing in front of the mirror, Harry touched his shoulders reflexively. Back, 'reflected' in the mirror, Sirius's eyes glowed…

His eyes. His beautiful grey eyes… Harry bit his lip, tears beginning in his own green ones.

He hadn't slept in days. He hadn't eaten in days. Seeing Sirius was too much, perhaps.

Harry fainted.

He awoke a minute later, still staring into those eyes.

Harry felt like electricity had been shot through every vein in his body. "Sirius?" He murmured. I'm still out of it. I'm still asleep. This isn't possible. Sirius is dead!

Sirius- no, it couldn't be- the man, the dream, shook his head. His shoulder-length black hair moved around his head in waves.

"Are you… real?" Harry whispered. The thing that looked like Sirius grinned. But Harry knew that smile. How could it be anyone else? Abruptly his doubts began to melt away. That wasn't a thing- it was Sirius!

"Did you come… out of the mirror?" Harry suddenly remembered something. His first year, the second time he had come across the mirror of Erised… somehow, he had gotten the Stone out of it. He had wanted it so much, so purely, that it had happened- his desire had come true. Why couldn't that be the case now? Why couldn't this be Sirius?

Harry's mind came up with a million good reasons. Harry's heart didn't care- it was too busy beating its way out of his chest.

Not knowing what else to do, Harry launched himself forward and threw his arms around Sirius's neck. "You're alive," he whispered. "You're alive."

He pulled back, content just to stare into Sirius's eyes… memorize every part of them. Grey, silver-grey shot through with blue and black. They were the most beautiful eyes Harry had ever seen, and he vowed to engrave them deep enough in his memory that he would never forget them again. How could he have in the first place? Those eyes were unforgettable.

"I missed you so much," Harry told him, hearing the tears encroaching on his voice. "I thought you were gone forever… when you fell behind that veil…"

Sirius- it was him, it had to be- held a finger up to his lips, then to Harry's, quieting his godson. He shook his head, and it occurred to Harry that he hadn't yet spoken.

"I don't understand," Harry said softly. "Sirius- what's wrong?" Sirius shook his head again.

Dread rising suddenly in his throat, Harry pulled back once more. But his eyes stayed locked in Sirius's… and Sirius's eyes told him not to worry.

So he didn't. It would all be fine. Who was he to doubt? Sirius knew what was happening, and that was enough. Harry let himself be pulled forward again, into Sirius's strong hold. He lay there for a bit, inhaling deeply the scent of his godfather's robes: sweat and cotton and a hint of leather. It smelled wonderful; it smelled like… home.

Tears ran down the side of his face, disappearing into Sirius's obsidian hair. They were the first tears he had let anyone see him cry in a long time, but they were tears of joy, and not sorrow. It was the first time he could ever remember crying with happiness.

After a few minutes like this, Sirius slowly pulled away, and Harry mirrored the action, content to stare into those eyes once more. But this time he saw not only compassion and caring in Sirius's eyes- he saw love. More than platonic, more than familial, more than romantic even… love in its purest form.

Harry's heart surged. Without knowing what he was doing, he leant forward again, this time placing his mouth against Sirius's. His lips were warm and comforting, and Harry pressed his own down harder. He opened his mouth slightly, thirsting for oxygen, and breathed in just barely, unwilling to break the kiss for a true gasp of air. This bond was everything he had; nothing could make him break it.

Sirius had begun to reciprocate, pressing their bodies closer together in a perfect union. One of his arms went around Harry's waist, the other around his back, forcing him closer. Both of Harry's arms draping around Sirius's neck, begging him with their pressure to never leave again. And still their mouths were together- they breathed in at the same time, the same shared oxygen.

Harry could have lived in that moment forever. He wondered if Sirius could have as well.

At last their lips parted, and Harry found himself staring once more into those eyes- eyes that were now flooded with tears. Something odd happened inside of Harry, a feeling that he could not truly put a name to. It wasn't happiness, sadness, anger or fear… the only four emotions he had known in their purest states so far. He thought again of Sirius's mouth again his, their tongues playing gently against each other… but it wasn't lust, either, he knew.

With a slender, trembling hand, Harry reached up and wiped the tears from Sirius's cheeks. In the same motion, Sirius wiped the tears from Harry's. Sirius smiled.

And Harry knew exactly what he was feeling.

He was feeling love. Not seeing it, or thinking it, or even wanting it, but experiencing it. He wondered if this was what his mother had to have felt when she gave her life for him, but it was more than that. Was this how his mother had felt for his father? Perhaps, but more than that even. It was complete dedication; in that moment, Harry realized he would do anything to keep Sirius with him. Anything.

He might even kill himself.

It was as if Sirius had read his thoughts, and that might have been what happened, so strong was the connection between them. But however it happened, Sirius sensed Harry's last thought, and shook his head sadly.

Another feeling bubbled up behind the love: fear, completely instinctive and basic. He could not live without Sirius. What was Sirius saying? Did he have to leave again? Would Sirius keep him from killing himself, deny him the continuation of this union in heaven?

Sirius smiled, and shook his head again, taking Harry's hand in his own.

"Don't go," Harry pleaded.

I have to, said Sirius's eyes.

"I can't live without you," Harry whispered, sobbing by now.

Sirius dropped his hand from Harry's and instead placed both hands on Harry's cheeks, cradling his face. Shaking all over, Harry forced himself to look into Sirius's eyes. And there was the answer he needed. I love you.

"I love you too," Harry murmured, laying his head against Sirius's solid chest. And for the first time in his life, he really, truly meant it- meant it with all his heart.

Sirius bent his neck down and kissed Harry's hair. Harry burrowed his face into Sirius and inhaled his scent one last time, then pulled back to look into his eyes.

Sirius was smiling. "Harry," he whispered. "It'll be fine. Now, live."

Harry awoke to the dark, sobbing. He had realized in that moment, with perfect clarity, why Sirius had to go. But as the dream faded from memory, so too did the understanding… he didn't know any more why Sirius had died. It was like losing him all over again.

He drew his legs up to his chest, burying his face in them and crying. He wanted… Sirius. He wanted Sirius to be there, to hold him, to love him.

And then he remembered. That mouth on his… it couldn't have been a dream. The kiss still lingered on his lips…

Harry remembered everything. Sirius had died for love, for the love of his godson. And now Harry pushed himself up from the floor, facing the world with a new hope. If Sirius could fight for those he loved, so could he. And if Sirius could die for love, Harry could too. He no longer wanted to die, but he no longer feared it… he would see Sirius again, and until then he could wait. Whenever he closed his eyes, he could see Those Eyes, and they gave him strength.

the end

Please review! This is my first-ever slash and I'd really like opinions!


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